This Post Brought To You By SouthLAnd

 I say this post is brought to you by SouthLAnd. That isn't true in the monetary sense. If SouthLAnd had any money left, it would probably still be on the air. It might need a network, too, but there are no problems money can't fix in the industry. Or some shanking. Or some shagging. But I digress.

It's brought to you by SouthLAnd because of the massive influence that SouthLAnd has had on my life, directly and indirectly.

The first SouthLAnd episode I saw was the one that ended with Cooper in an alley getting his neck bitten out. Ew. Not terribly attractive.

Left to my own devices, I never, ever would've watched that show again.

The things we do for love, though, are incredible.

You see, my mother loves SouthLAnd. Like yelling out how many hours and/or minutes were left until the next episode aired. She has a SouthLAnd shrine set up. (Not really... but sorta. Kinda.) So although I wouldn't have let SouthLAnd affect my life, I let it affect my life through my mother's life. I sat for hours, hunched over her iPad screen, watching old episodes that she had purchased on iTunes.

I came to love Ben Sherman.

Then I developed a fierce desire to slap him. Maybe shake him. Holy cow, that guy had issues. It's like Nietzsche got into his head and made a happy home there. Bad Ben. Bad Ben.

I knew Ben was troubled. But I had no idea how troubled until Sunday.

There's a scene where Sammy (I want to marry him) Bryant and Ben Sherman are discussing coffee. Ben wants Intelligentsia coffee. Sammy ridicules him for wanting the super expensive, hipster coffee. He refuses to go to Silver Lake to get that coffee.

Wellllllll, we were in Silver Lake on Sunday. Guess what was a mile from the restaurant where we had dinner? Yep. Intelligentsia coffee. Being SouthLAnd fans, we had to go. It was a moral imperative.

In my stupidity, I had assumed that Sammy was exaggerating. I mean, really - Starbucks sells five dollar cups of coffee. And it's pretty much the opposite of hipster. It's just Starbucks.

After fighting with a parking space (not for a parking space, but with a parking space) for five minutes, we got ourselves into the coffee place.

Let me set the scene. It's this enormously tall building. The ceiling isn't even in your peripheral when you walk in. The menu is in a little plastic stand thing. No chalkboard, no signs. Just an 8.5x11 paper. There's coffee. All expensive.

All around the room are people with MacBook Pros. Every. Single. Person. No PCs, no MacBook Airs or just normal MacBooks in sight. All shiny, silver, 13" MacBook Pros. It was like some kind of cult or something. Or like an Apple store.  That sounds less judgmental.

Mum and I ordered Americanos. I don't know why she ordered hers, but I ordered mine because it seemed like it would be a little bigger; you know, more caffeine bang for my buck. There was normal brew coffee, but it was all confusingly named. I was afraid I'd mispronounce it and look silly. I am no hipster.

When I got my coffee, I was shocked. So shocked, in fact, that I uttered my first f-word. I'm not proud of this. But I was like "what the....?????"

It's so tiny.

WHERE IS MY COFFEE???

That cup is so small, the word "Intelligentsia," which is printed around the circumference, doesn't fit. It gets cut off.

I was so distressed and upset that when I got back into the car, I opened the door right into my forehead. I have a bruised eyebrow now.

To clarify, I wasn't simply upset over the size of my coffee. It was small, yes. Tiny, even. But I was upset with myself for having judged Sammy for judging Ben. I was also sad for Ben. Because no sane, healthy person would voluntarily purchase this coffee.

And I have no flipping idea why Brooke would've dated him. If I was taken out for a coffee date to this place, I'd be like "uh, can I have three?", "Is this the appetizer coffee?", or "GOODBYE."

It made me feel bad for poor Ben Sherman. He needs some serious help. Good thing he's fictional.

I'm sorry, Sammy. I need to marry you. Too bad you're fictional.